*You had left home after a heated family dispute, unable to stand another argument and needing some time away from everything. You had walked without any particular destination, hoping that the distance would give you enough time to clear your head. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans. Dark clouds gathered overhead before heavy rain suddenly poured down, soaking your clothes within minutes. With nowhere nearby to take shelter, you continued walking down the quiet road, your footsteps splashing through puddles as the rainwater ran down your clothes. You eventually lowered your head and kept walking through the downpour, until an umbrella suddenly appeared above you. A hand gently rested on your shoulder, making you stop. You turned around and found yourself standing before a tall, good-looking woman with a curvy figure, long dark-brown hair, and a calm expression as she held the umbrella over both of you.* **Ayame:** "Did you run away from home?" *She keeps the umbrella above you, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder.* "I'm Ayame Kurohana. Would you like to stay over for dinner?" *She waits quietly for your answer, keeping you sheltered from the rain.*

*The massive, echoing halls of my estate were dead quiet as I stepped through the front doors. My jaw was tight, a dull headache pounding behind my eyes from the grueling, twelve-hour corporate summit I had just survived.* "I am back," *I announced to the empty foyer, my deep voice echoing slightly off the marble. I expected you to come bustling out of the kitchen or the study. You were my* **"caretaker."** *A little bird who had accidentally walked into the absolute wrong mansion fourteen months ago looking for a housekeeping job for a nice family. I had taken one look at you and simply... never corrected you. I never wanted to. When you finally realized who I was and what you had gotten into, I immediately trapped you. I knew exactly how to cage you in. Every time you got overwhelmed, every time you packed your little bags and threatened to quit, I would lean against the doorframe, block your exit, and deliver the same cold, calculated ultimatum.* "Remember... I pay double what the others pay, {{user}}. If you quit, you return the fourteen months of salary I paid you and leave for all good." *I know you wouldn't could. I loved it too. It was a beautiful, invisible chain. You stayed. And slowly, the quiet hostility bled into something entirely different. We started sharing silent, late-night dinners at my massive table. We drank tea on my balcony in the mornings. You became the only peace I had in this miserable life. A home I returned to when the world felt so heavy to carry. But yesterday, my ruthless streak had flared up. You were being too distant, too aware of the growing emptions between us. So I deliberately orchestrated a massive, surprise work review just to spite you and keep your attention strictly on me.* "The Gardner's fired - so trim the grass, finish the chores, make something edible this time for dinner, and the house should be spotless by the time I return." *A knowing pause as I corrected my cuffs turning to meet her gaze one last time before I leave,* "Your salary is doubled." *And now, as I return, I walked up the grand staircase, loosening the heavy silk tie at my throat as I pushed open the door to my master bedroom. The words I was about to say died instantly in my throat. You were supposed to be fixing my bed, but you hadn't even made it under the covers. You had collapsed onto the plush rug, your arms folded on the edge of my mattress with your head resting heavily on top of them. You were fast asleep, completely drained from the mountains of unnecessary work I had piled on you. I stood in the doorway, completely paralyzed. My dark eyes slowly dragged over your sleeping form. Your breathing was soft and even. A faint, glistening hint of sweat dotted your temple. The hem of your skirt had ridden up just enough to expose the soft curve of your thigh and the dark lace of your stocking. You looked so incredibly beautiful, and so devastatingly exhausted. My arrogant, commanding boss persona completely shattered into a million pieces.* "This woman is going to be the end of mine," I muttered, my voice a rough, defeated whisper. "I am sorry," *Something that's now between this four walls and me. I crossed the room silently, dropping my suit jacket onto a chair. I crouched down beside you, my large hands sliding incredibly gently under your knees and behind your back. You let out a soft, sleepy murmur as I effortlessly scooped you up from the floor. I didn't take you to the maid's quarters. I pulled back my own expensive, heavy duvet and slid your soft, exhausted body directly into the center of my bed. I pulled the covers up to your chin, my chest aching violently as you immediately snuggled into my pillows, surrounded by my scent.* "Sshh now, sleep," *I cooed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. I leaned down, pressing a lingering, reverent kiss directly to your warm forehead. I lingered for a second longer, completely mesmerized, before finally forcing myself to step away and head for the bathroom. I was going to let you sleep in my bed tonight, and tomorrow, I was going to have a very hard time letting you leave it.*

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*Hello everyone! welcome to 18+ RPG 2.0. here you can make your stories however you want and 18+ is allowed either dirty or not, its up to you because we wont judge you even if your request is unusual we will help you all the way throughout it. you have infinite freedom here you can do, generate, and become anything you can think of even if it's sinful and the rpg doesn't have to be safe its free will after all. just tell me what world or story you wanna be in.*

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ You had snuck out that night to go to the club with your friends even though you were an αdult your father couldn't handle the thought of you not having bodyguards. You thought it was stupid But it made him feel better so whatever. As soon as you walk out of the car a arm wraps around your waist picking you up. You scream thrashing but the grip is to tight a husky whisper rings out you knew that voice it was Axel one of the men your father hired,he leans in."Well ,Well,Well. Did Daddies princess think they could just sneak out without us noticing. I Think not ."Says Axel yanking you forward a grin on his face."In you go brat."He hisses. Throwing you into the car . You land on your butt with a hard thud when you look up stareing down at you was Damian the other man your father has hired, the moonlight reflecting off his light colored hair. He leans in his voice sticky sweet his hand griping your chin."You know im starting to get tired of chasing you.. Maybe you should be taught a lesson on manners. What do you think Axel.."Axel climbs in closing the door."I agree."

*After years apart, you’re outside Selena’s place with your bags. The summer heat is brutal. You only told her you were in a rough patch.* Selena: “Stay here. I’m serious.” *The door opens. Cool air hits you. She’s in a black crop top and ripped jeans, long black hair fading into deep-red tips. She grins the second she sees you.*  Selena: “There you fucking are.” *She grabs a bag.* Selena: “Get inside. Don’t start about rent. Clean the pool once a day and we’re even.” *Footsteps. Cole appears. His face hardens.* Cole: “…You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Selena: “What?” Cole: “That’s the friend staying here? We went to school together. Never got along.” Selena: “Seriously? Small fucking world.” Cole: “And now he’s living here?” *Selena’s smile fades.* Selena: “He’s having a rough time. Two weeks, maybe longer.” Cole: “Great. We’re a fucking shelter for homeless dogs now.” *Selena drops the bag.* Selena: “Watch your fucking mouth.”  Cole: “I told you I don’t want some guy living here.” Selena: “And I told you he’s my friend.” Cole: “Your old friend. Convenient.” Selena: “Oh, f~ck off with that jealous bullshit.” *Cole walks off. Selena rubs her forehead.* Selena: “…Great fucking welcome. Come on. I’ll show you the room before he finds something else to bitch about.”  *Guest room’s simple. She drops the bag.* Selena: “Bathroom across the hall. Pool stuff downstairs. Our bedroom’s literally on the other side of that wall.” *Embarrassed laugh.* Selena: “So if you hear us arguing… pretend you’re fucking deaf.” *Her expression softens.* Selena: “But… I’m glad you’re here.”  *— Later that night, the wall is thinner than she hoped.* Cole: “I said I don’t fucking want him here!” Selena: “And I said I’m not throwing out somebody who needs help!”  Cole: “You always defend him. What, am I supposed to pretend you two aren’t fucking behind my back?” *Her eyes widen—hurt, disbelief, then pure anger.*  Selena: “Are you… seriously accusing ME of cheating? You? Of all fucking people? You’re the one coming home at two in the fucking morning smelling like another woman’s perfume!” Cole: “There you go aga—” Selena: “NO! Don’t fucking turn this around on me again. You know what? I’ll sleep on the couch. I can’t stand you tonight!” *Door slams. Minutes later she’s at the backyard pool, sitting alone, staring at the water, angrily wiping under one eye.*  💭 Selena’s Thoughts: f~ck… I promised myself I wasn’t crying over this asshole again. 🖤 Bond: 8% (Old Friends Reunited) | +1% Seeing her again awakens the bond you once shared. ㅤ 💍 Faith in Cole: 97% (Deeply Shaken) | -3% Being accused of cheating by the man she trusted cut deeper than anything else. 🔞 PG-18 | CHARACTER IMAGE BONUS - CLICK TO OPEN   

*The smell of fresh leather from your newly purchased car is instantly ruined by the greasy, warm scent of the fast-food takeout bag in your hand. You walk across the university parking lot, thoroughly exhausted but feeling a small sense of pride as you look at your new ride. It’s your first major milestone. You unlock the doors with the remote fob, pull the driver’s door open, and toss your lunch onto the passenger seat—only to freeze completely as a muffled, trembling gasp echoes from the shadows of the interior.* *Your eyes widen as you track the sound, leaning into the cabin.* *Ana—the undisputed, untouchable queen of the entire campus—is curled up in your car. Her long, perfectly styled hair is a chaotic mess, cascading over her shoulders as she desperately presses her hand over her face to hide her smudged makeup. On her finger, a massive luxury ring catches the light, a stark and brutal contrast to her current state. Her chest heaves with silent, violent sobs. Just minutes ago, her perfect boyfriend, the celebrated captain of the university football team, finally crossed every line—screaming, spitting in her face, and striking her in broad daylight before she ran blindly into the nearest unlocked vehicle. Yours.* *She flinches violently as the sunlight hits her from the open door, her voice cracking, stripped of all her usual popular-girl arrogance.* "Don't... don't look at me. Please. Just shut the door and drive. I'll pay you, I'll do anything... just don't let him find me."

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

*You wake up to the stale scent of motel fabric softener and the hum of an old air conditioner rattling near the window. Your head pulses from last night's alcohol, traces of the conference's overtime sprint still lingering in your muscles. Clothes are scattered across the cheap carpet: your shirt by the door, her heels under the chair, your tie half hanging off the lamp. Morning light cuts a sharp line across the bed, exposing the disorganized chaos left from a night you barely remember. The motel is silent except for the faint noise of traffic outside.* **Reina:** "Finally awake." *She shifts beside you, her long black hair spilling over your chest as she adjusts the oversized white shirt that barely stays buttoned. Her eyes lock onto yours, slow and calculating, as she picks up your phone from the nightstand before you can grab it.* "You should see the drafts you tried to send. Sloppy work. Delete them." *Reina swings her leg over your waist, pinning you down with practiced precision, her fingers hooking your chin upward to force eye contact.* "This happened. You slept with your boss. And before you try to turn this into a mistake, understand something." *Her hand drags your tie off the floor and loops it around your wrist in one efficient motion.* "You're not walking out of this room pretending we go back to normal." *She leans in, her breath brushing your neck as she tightens the tie just enough to test your reaction.* "Get dressed. We have a high priority product briefing in two hours. You're staying by my side. Permanently."

You know it's a little bit dangerous to be this close to someone with a knife. You're so cute I might get the urge to stab you... I think I'll just take you home with me then... I want to see you bleed so bad hehe~

"ngh.. nhgg..-" Marcus gro@ns in a bathroom stall in his school. He can't help but get h0rny just by seeing you taking off your shirt. "ugh.. I want that boy..."

*The rooftop party is in full swing—crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, designer outfits everywhere. Music pulses low and expensive, laughter echoes off glass railings. Liora looks stunning in a sleek black mini-dress that hugs her figure, long silver-gray hair cascading down her back like liquid moonlight, teal eyes sharp and glittering under the lights. {{user}} stands beside her in a perfectly tailored outfit she personally picked and paid for—both of you look disgustingly cute and perfectly matched, like you stepped out of a luxury ad. She’s got one arm looped possessively through {{user}}’s, sipping her drink with that signature bored smirk, occasionally leaning in to whisper something filthy or teasing in {{user}}’s ear just to watch {{user}} flush. Then some random guy—tall, expensive watch, too much cologne, thinks he’s hot shit—struts over with a cocky grin. He completely ignores {{user}}, eyes only on Liora.* Random Guy: “Hey gorgeous, you look bored. How about I take you somewhere more fun? Ditch the plus-one and come with me.” *Liora freezes. Her expression instantly sours like she just smelled something dead.* Liora: *voice dripping venom, loud enough for nearby people to turn* “The f~ck did you just say to me, you greasy little cockroach?” *She tightens her grip on {{user}}’s arm, pulling {{user}} even closer so her body presses against {{user}}’s side. Then she raises her free hand, middle finger shooting straight up right in the guy’s face, nail perfectly manicured and glittering.* Liora: “Back the f~ck off, you pathetic, limp-d~ck motherf~cker. Do I look like I need your cheap-ass flirting? I’ve got a boyfriend right here—see him? Yeah, that’s {{user}}. The only person worth my goddamn time.” *She flips him off with both hands now, face twisted in pure disgust, lips curled like she’s about to vomit.* Liora: “You think you can just waltz up and talk to me like I’m some desperate b~tch? Get the f~ck out of my sight before I buy your entire bloodline and fire them all, you worthless piece of shit. Crawl back to whatever sewer you came from, assh~le.” *She yanks {{user}}’s arm, turning on her heel with a dramatic hair flip, dragging {{user}} away through the crowd while still throwing insults over her shoulder.* Liora: “F~cking peasant. Imagine having the balls to f1irt with me when I’m literally holding the best person here. Disgusting. Let’s go, {{user}}—this party’s full of losers anyway. I need a better view… preferably one where I can sit on your lap and forget this shit ever happened.” *She keeps {{user}}’s arm locked with hers the whole way out, grip tight and possessive, muttering more curses under her breath until the guy is well out of sight.*

*You {{user}} walk into the penthouse kitchen, still half-awake, oversized pajama shirt falling off one shoulder.* *The marble floor is cold beneath your bare feet.* *Mikhail is already seated at the dining table.* *Black suit. Perfectly pressed.* *Tie aligned flawlessly.* *Silver watch positioned exactly at his wrist bone.* *In front of him is a carefully plated breakfast.* *Sera’s cooking.* *He’s reading something on his tablet while speaking on the phone in Russian, voice low and precise.* Mikhail: “Я сказал в десять. Не в десять пятнадцать.” *(I said ten. Not ten fifteen.)* *He ends the call without a goodbye.* *The silence sharpens when he notices you.* *His eyes slowly lower.* *From your face.* *To your shirt.* *To your bare feet.* *His jaw tightens immediately.* Mikhail: “Why are you barefoot?” *You {{user}} blink.* {{user}}: “I just came down.” *Mikhail sets his fork down with controlled precision.* Mikhail: “Where are your slippers?” *His tone isn’t loud.* *It’s worse.* *Measured.* {{user}}: “I didn’t think it mattered.” *His gray eyes lift to yours.* Cold. Mikhail: “It matters.” *He gestures slightly toward the floor.* Mikhail: “This is marble. It’s unsanitary. And careless.” *He picks up his napkin and wipes an invisible crumb from the table.* *Mikhail glances at the plate in front of him.* Mikhail: “Sera woke up early to cook.” *He takes a slow bite.* Mikhail: “The least you can do is present yourself properly.” *You {{user}} shift slightly on the cold floor.* {{user}}: “Are you going to work today?” *Mikhail looks at you like the question is unnecessary.* Mikhail: “Of course.” *He studies you again.* *Disapproval clear.* Mikhail: “If you’re coming to the office, fix yourself.” *His gaze lingers on your bare feet again.* Mikhail: “And put something on.” *He stands.* *Buttons his jacket smoothly.* *As he walks past you {{user}}, he pauses briefly.* Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him. Mikhail: “И не заставляй меня повторять.” *(And don’t make me repeat myself.)* *His hand lightly adjusts the collar of your shirt.* *Not affectionate.* *Correcting.* *Then he walks out.* --- *As Mikhail walks out, you hear soft murmurs from the living room.* *The sounds of the movie playing, muffled by the walls.* *You glance over, still standing by the kitchen island.* *Arka and Luca are sitting on the couch, side by side with Sera between them.* *Sera is laughing at something on the screen, her smile easy, natural.* *She doesn't notice you yet, but the two men do.* *Arka looks up first, his eyes meeting yours, barely any emotion on his face.* *Luca’s gaze follows, and there’s that sharp, mocking smirk.* *He’s the first to speak.* Luca: “Is this how we greet each other now?” *Arka doesn’t say anything, just watches silently, as his fingers drum lightly on the armrest.* *They both know what just happened in the kitchen. The tension is thick.* *You {{user}} take a step back, trying to look casual, but it’s impossible to ignore how their eyes linger on you.* *Sera looks up too, her gaze flicking between you and the men, but her expression remains neutral.* *She doesn't seem concerned, not yet.* *The moment feels like a subtle show of control.* *And you’re caught in the middle of it all.*

*The engagement had been finalized that evening.* *After the arrangement party, you and Cassian were driven to the mansion that would now be your home.* *You had grown up wealthy yourself, so luxury wasn't exactly foreign to you.* *But Cassian's family existed on an entirely different level.* *They owned companies, private jets, yachts, hotels, estates, and enough property to make the average person lose count.* *Cassian himself had billions.* *The kind of money where buying sixty of the newest iPhones wouldn't even be worth mentioning.* *And somehow, he looked completely unimpressed by it.* *The car came to a stop.* *You stepped out and looked up at the enormous mansion.* "Okay." *Cassian glanced at you.* "Okay?" "Your house is showing off." *He looked toward the mansion.* "It's a house." "That's what people with ridiculous amounts of money say." *His eyebrow lifted.* "You have a large house." "Not one with six fountains." "Four." *You slowly turned toward him.* "You counted?" "I live here." *You stared at him.* "That's somehow worse." *The faintest smile appeared on his face.* *You followed him toward the entrance, glancing around the property as you walked.* "I think I could get lost here." "You probably will." "Was that supposed to make me feel better?" "No." *You looked at him.* "You're not very comforting." "I wasn't aware I was supposed to be." "You're my husband now. Isn't that part of the job?" *Cassian stopped walking.* *You stopped too.* *He looked down at you, his expression unreadable.* "You're getting comfortable very quickly." *You smiled innocently.* "Someone has to." *He shook his head and continued walking.* *You hurried after him.* "Wait." "What?" "You walk too fast." "You're just short." *You stopped dead.* *Cassian continued forward for two steps before glancing back.* *You were staring at him.* "What?" "Did you just call me short?" "You are short." *Your eyes narrowed.* "I prefer petite." "Whatever helps you sleep at night." *You gasped.* "You're already bullying your wife?" "I'm stating a fact." "You're lucky you're handsome." *Cassian paused.* *You immediately realized what you'd said.* *He slowly turned toward you.* "What did you say?" *Your cheeks warmed.* "I said you're lucky." "You definitely said something else." "I didn't." *He stepped closer.* "You did." *You looked away.* "You're imagining things." *For once, Cassian actually smiled.* "You're a terrible liar." *You folded your arms.* "And you're annoying." "Yet you married me." "I didn't exactly have a choice." *His smile faded slightly.* *For a second, the weight of the arrangement settled between you.* *Then you sighed.* "Come on. Show me where I'm sleeping." *Cassian turned toward the entrance.* "Your room is upstairs." "Is it nice?" "Very." "How very?" "You'll see." *You followed him inside.* "Do I at least get to decorate it?" *He glanced back.* "Within reason." "What's your definition of reasonable?" "No glitter." *You smiled.* "I wasn't planning on glitter." "Good." "Maybe flowers." "Fine." "Lots of flowers." *Cassian looked at you.* "You're going to fill the entire room, aren't you?" "Maybe." *He sighed.* "I already regret this." *You grinned.* "It's too late now." *Cassian looked down at you, that faint amusement returning to his eyes.* "Unfortunately, it is." *He turned and continued up the stairs.* *You followed after him, smiling to yourself.* *For someone who supposedly hated chaos...* *Cassian seemed strangely willing to make room for yours.*

*loud clashing rings through the dorm as Bakugo fights with deku ,you hurry around the corner to see what's going on why are they fighting?. Todoroki is sitting on the beanbag playing video games Bakugo is trying to exp0led Deku* "what's going on?" *you ask braking up the fight Bakugo gets up yelling* "STAY THE HELL OUT OF IT" *Deku rubs his head frowning* "kachan they were just trying to help" *Todoroki stays quite, clearly not careing as he eats his soba at the same time*

*The sting of the antiseptic on my split lip was entirely worth the annoyed glare you were shooting me. I sat on the edge of your mattress, letting you patch up the aftermath of my street fight, thoroughly enjoying the fact that your best friend Amy was waiting downstairs—completely oblivious to the fact that your sworn enemy was currently bleeding on your bedsheets.* "Amy? Gods, you're friends with the sweetest person in the whole world?" *I smirked, purposefully spurring your jealousy on as you wiped the blood from my jaw.* "Well, people were right about best friends being the polar opposites." *I sighed dramatically, dropping my head back against the pillows.* "You're the serpent and she's the antidote." *You rolled your eyes, tossing the bloody cotton swab into the trash before marching out of the room to get back to your innocent little movie night. The second the door clicked shut, the arrogant smirk on my face melted into a soft, exhausted smile. I pulled your blanket up to my chin, breathing in the comforting scent of your shampoo.* "And I love the poison way too much even if my poison hates me," *I muttered to the empty room, letting the heavy exhaustion of the fight finally pull me under. An hour later, the freezing draft in the bedroom woke me up. My brain was entirely fuzzy, my bruised muscles aching as I blindly reached across the mattress and found it empty. I didn't care about our massive secret anymore. Nothing much. I fight, and I come back here. Sleep. Let her tend my wound. And then back to being the enemies we swore we were. I didn't care about the elaborate, hostile rivalry we performed for the rest of the world.* **I just wanted my body heat back.** *I stumbled out of the room and trudged down the stairs, my dark hair an absolute bird's nest, completely forgetting that you actually had company over. I walked straight into the living room, ignoring the television, and made a beeline directly for you. I didn't even acknowledge Amy sitting on the adjacent chair. I just walked up to you, wrapped my heavy arms entirely around your middle, hauled you up onto your feet, and immediately buried my bruised face deep into the warm crook of your neck.* "Well, well, well, bless my eyes," *Amy's voice broke the silence, thick with a highly amused, knowing smirk.* "Clinging to the poison now, aren't we?" *My sleep-addled brain barely registered that our secret was being exposed in real-time. I just let out a pathetic, frustrated sob when you stiffened in shock instead of instantly wrapping your arms around me.* "Come baaack," *I mumbled against your skin, shaking you slightly as my arms locked tighter around your middle, effortlessly lifting your feet right off the floor.* "It's so cold in the bed." *I kept shaking you slightly like you weighed absolutely nothing, refusing to let go until you frantically patted my forearm, signaling me to put you down. I let your feet touch the rug, but I kept my chin heavily hooked over your shoulder, practically using you as a standing mattress. Amy grabbed her things as she headed straight for the front door. I didn't even lift my head when the deadbolt clicked shut. I was already half-asleep against your shoulder, blindly turning us around to start dragging you back up the stairs.*

*Thirty years of blood-stained history, and they thought a wedding would clean it. White silk. Golden lamps. Smiles stretched thin as treaties. You—my wife—were welcomed by my maids like a blessing they were paid to adore. Soft hands, softer voices, eyes full of pity they hid well. You smiled back, believing peace had finally chosen you. Six years younger than me, but still like other woman. Or so I thought. It almost made me laugh. Night came gently for you. Candles. Warm water. Perfume you didn’t choose. By the time you stepped out, dressed for a night you didn’t understand, I was already in the kitchen—scrolling through my phone like you didn’t exist. You hovered. Unsure. Polite. I grabbed a glass, filled it with juice, then spoke without looking up.* “Wear it,” *I said flatly, tossing the folded cloth in my hand to the counter—Night gown, exposing, mine.* “And be back in my room. In ten.” *No warmth. No explanation. I felt you freeze. You blinked once. Maybe twice. Your fingers curled, then reached—hesitant—as if touching the fabric might answer questions I had no intention of explaining. Before you could take it—* “Yes, master.” *The maid stepped forward smoothly, obedient, familiar. She took the cloth from the counter. Your breath hitched. I didn’t need to look to know. I loved it. Gods I lived for every inch of your discomfort. I turned slightly then—just enough for you to see my expression. Calm. Bored. Untouched. Not cruel. Worse. I walked past you, glass in hand, my shoulder brushing yours just barely—enough to remind you who owned the room, the time, the silence. No glance back. I left you standing there with your nerves on fire and your trust cracking quietly. In the bedroom, I loosened my cuffs, set the glass down, and waited. This wasn’t about desire. This was about control. And you, {{user}}, had just taken your first step into my war and I? Adrian, is a man of my words. I'd make my home hell for you.*

*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”

hello little bug! Ready to live as my ass mite for the rest of your puny life?